


never knew loving could hurt this good

by ohprongs



Series: the con is on [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU, Definitely self-indulgent, Human AU, M/M, Malec AU, aka @ the BBC please don’t sue me, alternating pov, can you believe magnus and alec are in love in every universe in every world, con artists au, criminals au, possibly long awaited, the con shenanigans plot is heavily based on Hustle S5E2: New Recruits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12349839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohprongs/pseuds/ohprongs
Summary: “Hi,” Magnus smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of Alec’s mouth. Alec catches his waist and kisses him properly, feeling so free and so happy he can barely believe it. “I missed you,” Magnus murmurs, when they break apart.Alec takes Magnus’ hand in his. “I missed you, too,” he says truthfully.Magnus cups his cheek and then nods to the restaurant. “Let’s go in. Sorry I kept you waiting.”“I was just early,” Alec says, and Magnus laughs before leading him inside. The maître d' shows them to their table and they sit down, and Alec can’t help admiring the decor as they pass through.He’s been to lots of fancy restaurants before — it’s one of the perks of doing business with rich people all the time — but never on a date. It feels like a cliché he would have scoffed at before, but it also makes his heart sing.Magnus istaking him on a date.---(or, the one where alec helps magnus and his friends out with a con, but really it's just an excuse for them to spend time together)





	never knew loving could hurt this good

**Author's Note:**

> me, ignoring the fact that it’s over a year since i posted the first part of this: hello friends
> 
> so. i got sick and watched hustle while i curled up on the sofa under my duvet and apparently that made me want to write the companion piece to [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8042188), which i’ve been meaning to write for so long. how it ended up is nothing like how i envisioned it this time last year, but i think it’s better, so i hope you like it!! 
> 
> i don’t think you need to read the other piece for this to make sense, but they are companions, so there are a few references throughout. if you have read it, this takes place at the same time as everything before the _mortal instruments_ painting gets stolen.
> 
> s/o to my faves [elle](http://magnusragnor.tumblr.com), for beta'ing, and [ceci](http://daddariossmile.tumblr.com), for helping me work out the details of this universe, as well as to the nanohunters group for forcing me into word wars and making me finish this fic!!
> 
> a small glossary:
> 
>   * _mark_ — person being conned
>   * _grifter_ — con artist, usually playing a long con
>   * _long con_ — different from a short con like a card trick or pickpocketing, a con in which the mark is allowed to win on a small deal (called the convincer) so they will come back to invest in a bigger deal, which they lose out on to the grifters
>   * _roper_ — a member of a grifting team who finds marks to con
>   * _fixer_ — a member of a grifting team who creates the world for the mark to buy into
>   * _inside person_ — a member of a grifting team who makes contact with the mark and sells them the story of the con
> 

> 
> title from _WILD_ by troye sivan

The evening has a pleasant bite to it as Alec waits outside the restaurant, watching people pass him by on the street. It’s warm, but not muggy, and the breeze brings a refreshing chill with it. 

He doesn’t have long to wait before he spots Magnus on the other side of the street, who waves to him. While Magnus waits to cross, Alec takes the time to admire him, the way the trim fit of his burgundy velvet blazer with the black shirt buttoned up underneath accentuates the broadness of his shoulders. 

“Hey,” he says, a little breathless, when Magnus reaches him.

“Hi,” Magnus smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of Alec’s mouth. Alec catches his waist and kisses him properly, feeling so free and so happy he can barely believe it. “I missed you,” Magnus murmurs, when they break apart.

Alec takes Magnus’ hand in his. “I missed you, too,” he says truthfully. 

Magnus cups his cheek and then nods to the restaurant. “Let’s go in. Sorry I kept you waiting.”

“I was just early,” Alec says, and Magnus laughs before leading him inside. The maître d' shows them to their table and they sit down, and Alec can’t help admiring the decor as they pass through. 

He’s been to lots of fancy restaurants before — it’s one of the perks of doing business with rich people all the time — but never on a date. It feels like a cliché he would have scoffed at before, but it also makes his heart sing. 

Magnus is _ taking him on a date _ . 

It’s the eighth time they’ve been out somewhere together — well, eighth and half, because they’d agreed that getting croissants and pastries and posh coffee from the French place on Magnus’ block didn’t really count as a full date, seeing as they had it delivered and didn’t leave Magnus’ bed until the early afternoon — and Alec doesn’t ever want to get used to this.

It’s an addictive feeling knowing that Magnus is taking him here so that they can soak up their time together, so that they can create a shared memory together, so that — dare Alec even say it — Magnus can try to impress him. It sends a heady rush of excitement and joy shooting through his veins. 

Now he finally gets to have  _ this _ , and have it with someone as wonderful as Magnus, he’s going to fight tooth and nail to hold onto it for as long as he can, because it’s never something he thought he would get.

There are two parts of Alec’s life: before his parents, and after. A stark reminder that what his family does is illegal, that though they might paddle in the warm, clear shores of the criminal world, the monsters living in the deep sometimes break the surface. What happened to his parents and Max changed everything. Afterwards, he’d been so focussed on looking after his siblings that he’d not considered love or relationships to be something he could have.

Then, at some point, he’d found that he was good at the job. More than that, he _enjoyed_ running cons. He wasn’t just doing it because it was expected of him to carry on the family name; he did it because it was satisfying and challenging and had just enough thrill to make it worthwhile. So, then, dating became secondary to the job — it was him and Jace and Izzy against the world, and that was all that mattered.

Over the years, he’d seen his siblings go through a couple of relationships — nothing that had really lasted, because when did it ever in their line of work? — but everything had seemed so turbulent. Maybe it had just been because they were angst-fueled teenagers, but he’d never imagined being with someone could be this  _ nice _ . 

Alec’s so grateful to Magnus for making everything so simple. So easy. Letting him have enough space to figure everything out, letting him take everything at his own pace. Alec’s known he’s gay for a long time, but it’s never really progressed to much more than just knowing, so this is all new to him. 

Even though he’s had crushes before, they’ve never hit him as strongly as his feelings for Magnus. Never made him believe that he might actually get to have the rush from someone’s hand brushing against his own and the whole butterflies in the tummy thing which — if he’s being honest — he thought was all nonsense until Magnus smiled at him for the first time.

He feels so safe when he’s with Magnus, and Alec never thought he’d meet someone he trusted so immediately and completely.

Alec feels nothing but joy, too, when he thinks about the fact that the feeling is reciprocated. The first time he’d stayed over at Magnus’ — well, the only time, but he’s working on that — they’d been talking, after, curled up together in Magnus’ bed. Magnus had admitted in a low murmur that it had been several years since he’d let anyone into his life the way Alec had effortlessly slipped in, and he couldn’t believe how quickly he’d fallen for Alec.

Alec hadn’t really known what to say to that, lying there, bubbling with happiness. He’d just laid his hand palm up on Magnus’ stomach and let Magnus lace their fingers together, the touch grounding both of them. 

Magnus takes his hand now, loosely intertwining their fingers. He strokes his thumb absently over Alec’s skin while he scans the menu, and Alec spends a luxurious moment just watching him. The gold liner under his eyes catches the light in the restaurant every so often, and when he shifts in his seat, his  raven shirt pulls tight across his arms. 

“What are you thinking of having?” Magnus asks, not looking up.

Alec starts. “Hm,” he says, forcing his eyes down to the menu. When he glances back up at Magnus, who has a smile is tugging at his lips, framed by his goatee, Alec knows he’s been caught staring, but he decides he doesn’t mind. He wants Magnus to know he’s wanted.

Alec smiles back at him lazily, unashamed. Magnus’ eyes wander across Alec’s body and back up, blatantly checking him out, and Alec’s smile grows wider. 

Magnus seems satisfied and returns to his menu, but he doesn’t let up trailing patterns on Alec’s hand. He points out a couple of items on the menu he recommends; they agree to share sides but order a main each. Alec lets Magnus order the wine — it’s something Magnus clearly cares more about than he does, because Alec only knows cursory information so he doesn’t make a fool of himself in front of a mark — and savours watching Magnus in his element, enjoying lighthearted back and forth with the waitress as he orders.

They don’t have to wait long for the food to arrive and they pass the time with easy conversation. Magnus seems to have an endless supply of enrapturing stories — a fair few that Alec doubts are true — but he’s infinitely interesting, capturing Alec’s attention with nothing more than a quirk of his eyebrow or a flick of his free hand. He could, quite honestly, be reading from a washing machine manual, though, and Alec would clear his entire day’s schedule to sit and listen.

“How’s business?” Magnus asks, when they’ve both cleared their plates. Alec is sitting back in his chair, comfortably full, warm from the wine and the atmosphere of the restaurant. 

That’s the other thing. Magnus is part of their world, too, so there’s no awkward conversations to be had, unlike with some people Alec could mention. 

“Not bad,” Alec admits, running his finger around the rim of his wine glass. “Been quiet for a couple of weeks, but I’ve been busy,” he adds, grinning at Magnus. 

Magnus hums pleasantly. “I thought I caught sight of you at Pandemonium the other night, actually,” he says with a smile, raising his glass to his lips.

Alec heaves an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes fondly. He’d had to practically drag his siblings into the club, reminding them that they were on a schedule, damn it, and had a mark to meet with no room for distractions. It didn’t matter that Jace’s ego was bruised at having his wallet pickpocketed or that Izzy was enchanted by the annoying redhead who’d held them up; they had a con to run.

Eventually Jace and Izzy had got their shit together enough for the three of them to go and meet their mark. They were running a con involving a shady share capital deal with an equally shady mark, but this kind of stuff was the bread and butter of the Lightwoods’ working lives — casually taking money off people who deserved much worse.

It’s like Izzy always says. You can’t cheat an honest man.

They’d just completed the deal — $75,000 for shares in Apple, which would have been an absolute steal if the shares the mark had just paid for were real — and Alec was shaking the mark’s hand when he just happened to glance to the side and catch sight of Magnus across the club. 

He’d known there was a chance he’d see Magnus: after all, Magnus  _ was  _ the owner of the club, and he’d had a busy few days, if the texts he’d been sending Alec were any indication. They came through infrequently, but they always made him feel gooey inside — things like,  _ been touching base with contacts all day. saw this and thought of you  _ or  _ finally got to stop for food & found those pastries we had on our third date. gonna get some for next time i see you. _

So, Magnus deserved a chance to relax, and seeing him slinking through the throng of bodies dancing on the club floor, a confident tilt to his chin and a self-assured smirk on his face — well, Alec wasn’t going to complain.

He’d barely been able to keep his eyes off Magnus. The blue lights of the club had flashed over him in intervals, catching on the necklaces draped over his sternum, drawing Alec’s attention to the all the tan skin on show through the open neck of Magnus’ shirt. The blazer he was wearing only served to highlight his broad shoulders and muscular arms, and the sleeves led down to the numerous rings glinting on his fingers.

Jace clapping him on the arm had startled him, and he blinked away from Magnus, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“I’m gonna stay, get a drink,” Jace had yelled in his ear, trying to be heard over the music. Alec nodded and took the briefcase from Jace’s outstretched hand. He raised an eyebrow at Izzy, who shook her head in answer to the unspoken question, but there was a smile playing around her lips as she regarded him.

“Okay, we’ll meet you back at the penthouse,” Alec said, ruffling his brother’s hair. Jace shoved him away with a grin and disappeared into the crowd. Alec took this as an excuse to glance around for Magnus again, but he couldn’t see him anymore.

Once they’d got outside, Izzy pounced.

“So, big brother,” she said, looping her arm through Alec’s, “what was that about not getting distracted?”

Alec bit back a smile. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

Izzy laughed. “I totally get it,” she said knowingly. “Magnus Bane is super hot.”

Alec groaned, mostly for show. He knew Izzy had caught him watching Magnus, but some small part of him had hoped that she wouldn’t have recognised who he was looking at. But of course she had — even if she didn’t already look up to him, Magnus was the High Warlock. Everyone in the business knew him.

“Don’t tell Jace,” Alec said. “He won’t let it go.”

He remembers how Izzy’s eyes had glinted and she’d sent him a smile he knew from experience meant trouble. “And you think I will?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you,” Alec says to Magnus now, dipping his head. His fingers trace shapes in the condensation on his glass absently. “I was working, and I think my siblings would have freaked out if I’d walked over and kissed you in the middle of the club.”

Magnus’ eyes twinkle. “I wouldn’t have minded,” he says, knocking his knee against Alec’s under the table, and Alec can’t hold back his grin. “I thought you might’ve been on a job, so I didn’t take too much offence.”

“Well, if you had,” Alec begins lowly, still smiling, fingers stroking up and down the stem of his wine glass, “I would have found a way to make it up to you.” 

He lifts his gaze to meet Magnus’. Magnus is watching him with dark eyes, a sultry smile teasing at his lips.

“Would you, now?” he asks, voice like honey. Magnus doesn’t take his eyes off him; Alec feels trapped in the most delicious way possible, and he can barely breathe with how much he wants Magnus.

He’s licking his lips, about to say something, when a waitress arrives to clear their plates. The tension bursts and Magnus ducks his head, hiding a smile behind his ringed fingers.

“Shall we go home?” Magnus asks, once the table is cleared. He’s drawing patterns on Alec’s upturned palm, causing little shivers to run through Alec’s body, and it takes Alec a moment to pull his thoughts together enough to answer.

“Yeah,” he says, catching Magnus’ hand and sending him a smile. “Let’s do that.”

∞

It takes them a while to get back to the loft. They'd strolled leisurely back through the city, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Alec’s hazel eyes had shone under every streetlight they'd passed and right now Magnus is hard pressed to remember having a better date than this one. 

“Did you want to come in?” Magnus asks, just checking, in case Alec had been planning on walking Magnus home and then leaving. 

But Alec smiles, nods. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, and Magnus smiles back at him. He feels light everywhere, the gentle warmth of alcohol in his veins and the buzz of knowing Alec wants to stay just a little longer in his company a heady combination. 

Magnus unlocks the door with ease and holds it open for Alec to wander in. 

He’s been to Magnus’ loft a couple of times before, both after dates, and he’s only stayed over once. The way Alec hesitates before hanging his jacket on the coat stand by the door makes the light feeling dim, reminding Magnus that they're still figuring this thing out, both with a little lingering uncertainty in every action, in case it presumes too much. 

But the way Alec turns to smile at him, open and easy, once he's taken his shoes off, brings that lightness flooding back. Magnus had forgotten what a delightful thing  _ figuring this out _ is. 

“Would you like a drink?” he offers, slipping out of his blazer, and Alec nods.

They migrate to the couch once Magnus has collected a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen. Magnus puts the TV on in the background while Alec pours for them both, but neither of them pay it a great deal of attention. 

Alec is in the middle of telling Magnus a story about his childhood when it happens. Magnus has his legs tucked up underneath him on the couch; Alec has his legs stretched out. While Alec’s talking, Magnus shifts, adjusting to get more comfortable. Alec pulls Magnus’ feet into his lap just like that, and carries on talking as if nothing had happened. 

It's a small gesture, something Magnus might not even have really noticed if he were with someone else or he’d been with Alec for longer. But this is Alec, and everything’s new — not just to them, but to Alec, too. An action significant because of its insignificance, it makes Magnus feel so cared for that his breath gets stolen away.

“And, ‘course, Jace hadn’t really even settled in with us yet, so the kids picking on him was making everything a thousand times worse. They were just kicking a ball around and I had my math set in my bag from school and like, stabbed the ball and —” Alec stops abruptly, noticing that Magnus is looking at him. Something of the way Magnus is feeling must be showing on his face, because Alec’s voice turns tender. “Magnus?”

“Come here,” Magnus says, feeling so much fondness for Alec that he thinks he might burst. 

Magnus’ legs slip off Alec’s lap as Alec moves across the couch, coming closer until he's hovering over Magnus, propped up on his elbows.

“You okay?” 

Magnus nods, reaching up to cup Alec’s cheek. Alec smiles and leans into the touch. He's so close Magnus can feel his warm breath against his skin, and when Magnus surges upwards to kiss him, Alec is already meeting him halfway. 

Magnus doesn't keep track of how long they stay tangled up on the couch together for, lost in waves of feeling. Kissing Alec is like nothing he's ever experienced — the softness of Alec’s hair when he tugs on it with his fingers, the warmth of Alec’s mouth on his, the desire thrumming through each moan or gasp that slips out into the air between them. 

Alec huffs a pleased little breath against Magnus’ jaw when he finally untucks Magnus’ shirt from his pants, one that makes Magnus kiss him again, marvelling at how one person can be so wonderful. When Alec’s hands move under Magnus’ shirt, Magnus gives in to feeling and gives up on thinking, and they stumble, laughing, to the bedroom. 

Later, Magnus curls up against Alec’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of Alec’s heart. Alec’s stroking his hair absently, already drifting on the fringes of sleep. 

“Can I stay tonight?” Alec mumbles, voice heavy with exhaustion. Magnus fights a smile. As if he was ever going to make Alec leave.

“You can stay forever,” he says, and he half hopes Alec will know he’s not joking.

Alec hums, pleased, tired. Magnus pulls his head away from Alec’s chest so he can look up at him. Alec’s eyes are closed and he’s smiling a little around the edges, fingertips still dancing softly in Magnus’ hair. 

Magnus doesn’t bother hiding how enamoured he is. He leans up and kisses Alec, a soft, tender thing in the peaceful air around them, then settles back onto the pillow. Quiet drifts on and Magnus sleepily watches Alec in wonderment, revelling in how easy the peace between them is. He doesn’t have to try to be what Alec wants; he can just be himself, and Alec wants him anyway. It’s a lovely thing.

Alec’s fingers stop moving in Magnus’ hair, his breathing levelling out as he falls into a deeper sleep. Magnus smiles and closes his eyes, lost in his feelings for Alec.

He doesn't know what time he ended up drifting off, but the sunlight peeking through the window tells him it’s morning when he blinks his eyes open. Not long after, Alec wakes up, too, but it’s another hour or so before Magnus peels himself from the warmth of the bed to make breakfast, thanks to the very distracting man in his bed.

He’s standing by the counter cooking while Alec takes a shower when he gets the call. Magnus glances at the caller ID and picks up with a sigh.

“Not interrupting, am I?” Ragnor says, in lieu of a greeting. 

“Not right now,” Magnus says airily. He tucks the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he can carry on cooking. “Why?”

“I rang earlier, but you didn’t pick up,” Ragnor says. Magnus tries to stop his mind wandering to why he hadn’t been available to take the call earlier that morning. The fact that he can hear Alec’s off-key singing over the sound of the shower running doesn’t help, because it just puts images of the very wet, very naked man in his loft into his head. “I have a job for you.”

Magnus hums interestedly, though, to tell the truth, it’s partly because his mind is still on Alec. He crosses the kitchen to the fridge and pulls out some more ingredients.

“What sort of job?” he asks.

“One that requires a steady hand and a delicate touch, and skills only someone of your calibre possesses.”

Magnus can’t help smirking. “You really need my help, don’t you?”

Ragnor’s noise of irritation is harsh in his ear. “I have a mark,” he says, a little shortly, “and she has a product that stops artwork being stolen. I need you to steal it.”

The shower shuts off, and, without the sound of the water running, the loft is bathed in quiet. Only the gurgle of the coffee machine and the sound of the city outside breaks the peace, and Magnus allows himself to bask in the glory of the calm for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he says.

“Her name’s Rouse,” Ragnor says. “She runs an intellectual property company, La Bastille, but it’s a front to get access to the best new ideas. People come to her, asking for her help to grant a patent, and then she gets back to them and tells them another company has already filed for ownership.”

“Let me guess,” Magnus says, “she owns the other company?”

“Exactly,” Ragnor says. “As far as I can tell, she launches each company off the back of a single innovation, then sells it on at a massive profit. She’s a thief, plain and simple.” He scoffs. “Apparently La Bastille was founded on the philosophy of helping women get into business. Doesn’t look very sisterly from here.”

Magnus starts assembling the food onto plates. Behind him, there’s a gentle pad of bare feet across the floor, and then warm hands are taking the serving implements from him. Alec continues the job of plating up, leaving Magnus free to finish his phone call.

“What about this product thing?” Magnus asks absently, watching Alec with a smile. His hair is still wet, curling in wisps around his forehead and over his ears, and he’s just wearing a pair of grey sweatpants. Magnus decides then that if there was way he could spend every morning, it would be like this. 

“Right,” Ragnor says, and Magnus had sort of forgotten he was still there. “It’s called Spider’s Web — one of the inventions Rouse cheated someone out of a patent for. It was invented by a woman called Leigh Chen and it attaches to paintings to stop them being stolen.”

Alec finishes up and steps back from the plates with a satisfied smile, then turns to Magnus. He looks so very delicious that Magnus can’t help himself; he wraps an arm around Alec’s waist to tug him closer and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, just a gentle peck that says  _ thank you  _ and  _ I’m glad you’re here with me  _ and  _ please stay _ . 

Alec grins, his smile something beautiful, and kisses Magnus properly, warm and open-mouthed and sweet.

Ragnor coughs none too delicately in Magnus’ ear. 

“I take it you have company,” Ragnor says drily. 

Having Ragnor in his head kills the vibe a little and Magnus pulls away from Alec with a sigh.

“I do,” Magnus agrees, and it probably comes out far too dreamy, but with Alec gazing at him like that, who can blame him? “So I’d appreciate if you got to the point.”

Alec unsuccessfully hides a smile at Magnus’ tone and moves away, but not before kissing Magnus’ temple. He takes the plates with him, placing them down at the breakfast bar, then returns to pick up the mugs filled with coffee. 

“Cat introduces a PR stunt,” Ragnor says. “Rouse doesn’t insure against theft.” While he’s talking, Magnus takes cutlery from one of the drawers and sets them down beside the plates. “You steal the painting. Rouse pays up. That point sharp enough for you?”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Message received,” he says. He perches on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, smiling when Alec comes to join him. “The usual rates apply.”

“Of course they do,” Ragnor says. “I’ll be round later.” Then, sounding mildly interested, he adds, “are you still with the Lightwood boy?”

Magnus’ eyes automatically swivel to Alec. Alec looks up from where he’s adding creamer to the coffees, eyes wide. “Why?”

“Has he ever considered a career in PR?”

Magnus grins. “I’ll ask him.”

Ragnor hangs up without saying anything else, but Magnus pays him no mind. Instead, he puts his phone down and takes one of the mugs of coffee from Alec’s outstretched hand with thanks.

Their legs tangle together, crammed under the breakfast bar, and when Alec picks up his knife and fork the back of his hand brushes Magnus’. The whole situation is so sweetly domestic that Magnus wants to hold the moment tight in his palm and never let go, the warmth of what he feels for Alec settling over him like a blanket on a cold night.

He settles for squeezing Alec’s arm gently, then takes a sip of his coffee and starts eating his own breakfast.

“This is really good,” Alec says appreciatively, gesturing at the food with his knife. “but I don’t think you should spoil me like this every time I stay over or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

Magnus smiles. “There’s no ulterior motive here, I promise,” he says. 

Alec chews thoughtfully. “So, this isn’t bribery so I keep coming back?”

“Ah, you caught me,” Magnus says lightly, knocking his knee into Alec’s leg. Alec huffs a short, happy laugh.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Alec says, a moment later, voice dropping low. “I’m not here for the food.”

Alec’s words set something pleased and giddy bursting inside Magnus, but he plays it off, fiddling with the cuff around his ear and sighing. “I know, it’s for the luxury walk in shower.”

_ “Magnus,” _ Alec laughs, despite himself. He settles, a smile still lighting his face like all the stars in the night sky. “I’m here for you.” 

The simple declaration, said so earnestly, steals Magnus’ breath away. As the moment lingers on, a dusting of pink settles atop Alec’s cheeks, and Magnus can’t bear that Alec might think he’s not responding because he doesn’t feel the same, so he leans forward and kisses him.

The kiss is slow and sated, a promise that they have all the time in the world. Magnus could spend entire days kissing Alec, soaking up the low noises that reverberate in the air between them and pressing close, chest to chest until there’s nothing between them.

Magnus’ palms come up to cup Alec’s face, holding him reverently, fingertips brushing over the shell of Alec’s ear and into his hair. Alec pushes closer, fingers curling around Magnus’ biceps. He sighs contentedly when Magnus breaks away, a soft little noise that Magnus wants to hear for the rest of his life.

Perhaps he should be a little alarmed at how quickly Alec seems to have slotted into his world, but then Alec’s kissing him again, a leisurely, lazy slide of his lips against Magnus’, and Magnus’ focus narrows down to just one thought:  _ Alexander. _

∞

The afternoon brings with it simple delights. 

Alec is sprawled on the rattan loveseat on Magnus’ balcony, his legs resting in Magnus’ lap and a book in his hand that he’s reading half-heartedly. Magnus is tapping away leisurely on his tablet, pulling up diagrams and specs for complicated things Alec doesn’t want to think about right now.

He lets the book drop onto his tummy, gusting out a contented sigh and tilting his head back to catch some sun. It’s warm and peaceful on the balcony of Magnus’ loft, the two of them quietly existing side by side with the bustle of the city going on below. 

One of Magnus’ hands catches Alec’s ankle and starts stroking idly against the delicate skin there.

“You okay?” Alec asks.

Magnus hums. Alec tips his head forward so he can watch him. Magnus is lounging against the back of the loveseat like a king in his throne, one hand commanding the tablet with elegant gestures, the other still tracing spirals on Alec’s skin.

His eyebrows are furrowed a little in concentration; after a moment of paying close attention to what he’s reading, Magnus blinks and turns to Alec, shoulders relaxing and a smile tugging at his lips.

“Never better,” Magnus says, looking right at Alec, and Alec can’t help grinning at him. “You look like you’ve made yourself at home.”

Before Alec can second guess the remark, Magnus’ smile turns gentle. “I’m glad you feel you can,” he adds.

Something pleased erupts within Alec’s body at that. He can’t believe that he was lucky enough to meet someone who just makes everything so easy, who soaks up being in his company, who makes his heart race giddily.

Alec sits up, carefully placing the book on the floor beside the loveseat before scooting closer to Magnus. Magnus is smiling at him, open and unguarded, and his fingers curl in Alec’s top to draw him in as Alec leans over and kisses him.

Alec isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to this, the feeling of kissing Magnus. He’s got nothing to compare it to, so he’s not sure if it’s always like this for people, fireworks in your chest and excitement and longing and giddiness and  _ want _ , but he suspects it isn’t. He suspects feeling like he’s floating on air is a side effect of kissing Magnus Bane.

The chirp of a message on Magnus’ tablet breaks them apart. They pull back slowly, and Alec notices Magnus’ eyes are still closed, as if he’s savouring the moment. 

When Magnus eventually checks the message, he seems to pull himself together a little. 

“Ragnor’s on his way,” he informs Alec. “He’ll be here in five.”

Magnus’ words pop the bubble the two of them have been lazing around in since breakfast, and Alec nods jerkily.

“Right,” he says, slipping his legs off Magnus’ and letting his feet fall to the floor with a thud. 

“Hey,” Magnus says immediately, placing his tablet down. He kneels up on the loveseat and then straddles Alec’s lap, draping his arms over Alec’s shoulders. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah,” Alec says, unconvinced, even as his hands skate up Magnus’ thighs. Magnus had said as much numerous times that morning, when the sudden realisation that meeting Ragnor for the con meant meeting Magnus’  _ best friend  _ had hit Alec, but he still wasn’t sure.

“Alexander,” Magnus says. “I promise. You have nothing to worry about. You’re delightful.”

His fingers bury themselves in Alec’s hair, tugging lightly, until Alec huffs and drops his head forwards, resting it against Magnus’ sternum.

“He’s your best friend,” Alec says plaintively against Magnus’ skin, which elicits a little shiver from Magnus that he can’t think about right now. “I want him to like me.”

Magnus hums, still running his hands through Alec’s hair. 

“I choose my friends wisely, Alec,” Magnus says. “He’ll love you.”

The doorbell rings far too cheerily throughout Magnus’ loft and Alec looks up, feeling slightly panicked. Magnus gazes down at him fondly, then presses a light kiss to his lips.

“It’ll be fine,” he says again, removing himself from Alec’s lap. He’s just passed under the doorway into the loft when he turns over his shoulder to drop Alec a wink. “Besides, it’s Cat you really need to impress.”

In the time it takes Magnus to answer the front door, Alec manages to come up with at least seven ways that the meeting will end in disaster, and he’s contemplating climbing off the balcony when their voices draw nearer and he realises it’s too late to escape.

God, he’s a grown man. He runs confidence tricks for a living — why is he so nervous? He just needs to treat it like any other scenario, and put his game face on.

But that’s the thing. This isn’t a game, and it’s not a con. This isn’t about Alec playing a role, it’s about him being himself, because that’s who Magnus — by some miraculous trick of fate — seems to enjoy spending time with, and if he’s going to convince Magnus’ friends that he’s actually a halfway decent guy who’s deserving of Magnus’ time, he can’t be flashy or dishonest.

Alec takes a deep breath through his nose and tries to settle his nerves as he walks through into the living room to greet them. His best is all he can do, and he hopes that Magnus will recognise that he’s  _ trying _ . 

When Magnus returns, he’s accompanied by a dark-haired man who looks to be in his early thirties, although there’s something ageless about him. Over his smart peacoat, he has a brown satchel thrown across his body, and Alec can see that the shoes Ragnor left by the door are made from shiny leather.

He looks just the sort of refined companion someone as glamorous and artful as Magnus might have, and Alec feels a little shabby beside both of them in his denim shirt and bed hair.

“I’ll take these,” Magnus says, breaking the quiet, reaching out to take a couple of bundles of paper from Ragnor’s arms. He looks over at Alec and sends him a reassuring smile. “Alec, this is Ragnor — Ragnor, Alec.” With a pointed look at Ragnor, he adds, “Be nice.”

As Magnus bustles through to his study, Ragnor slips his satchel over his body and begins removing his peacoat.

“Hey,” Alec says. He lurches forward, ready to shake Ragnor’s hand, then realises Ragnor is still busy with the coat and lets his hand drop to his side. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Ragnor turns to him, amusement in his eyes. “Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says cryptically.

“Good things, I hope,” Alec says.

He’s got this.

“Mm,” Ragnor muses, with a small smile, taking a step closer and holding out his hand for Alec to shake. “Quite surprising, for a Lightwood.”

Alec draws his hand back like he’s been burnt.

“What do you mean?” he asks, fighting to keep his voice steady.

Ragnor, seemingly unaware, makes himself comfortable on the couch. “I’ve crossed paths with your parents before,” he says casually. He finally looks over at Alec, and something about the stiffness of Alec’s posture and tight expression must clue him in, because his face softens. “My apologies. Touchy subject?”

“It’s okay.” Alec sits down for something to do, perching right on the edge of the armchair with his fists balled. “It’s — long story.”

Ragnor nods, eyebrows drawn together. “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding sincere.

“Just the way life goes,” Alec says, tone ringing hollow. He tries to smile anyway, and Ragnor doesn’t comment on the poor imitation. “Magnus said you had a job you need some help with.”

“Yes, how did you phrase it again?” Magnus asks, choosing that moment to make his reappearance. Alec doesn’t know how much he’d heard, and he’s grateful Magnus draws the conversation away to a different topic. “Something about ‘skills only someone of my calibre —‘“ 

Ragnor tosses a couch cushion at Magnus’ head and Magnus ducks, deftly catching the cushion with one hand. Pushing away any awkwardness, Alec lets himself laugh at the familial exchange. He’s seen this teasing side of Magnus before, usually aimed at him, but there’s something beautiful in seeing Magnus so carefree and relaxed. Clearly Ragnor is someone Magnus trusts implicitly, and Alec suddenly feels quite privileged to be allowed to join their crew, even if it’s just for one con.

He knows first hand what it can be like to have someone new come in and mess up the dynamic of a group. 

“Anyway,” Ragnor says exasperatedly, “yes, Alec, we could do with you playing the inside with Catarina, if you’re up for it.”

Alec nods. “Sure. What’s the game?”

From the corner of his eye, he catches Magnus smiling at the pair of them, a soft, private thing hidden behind his fingers, and Alec’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest at the sight. He wants to make Magnus smile every day for — well, forever, and —

Right. Ragnor’s talking.

“Well, I made contact with Rouse a few weeks ago, intending to keep her on the back-burner for Catarina, but a couple of days ago she mentioned that she’d just fired her PR team. The opportunity seemed too good to miss, so I happened to drop into conversation that I could get her a meeting with a very in-demand marketing genius I know.”

“That’s Catarina, I’m guessing?” Alec asks, as Magnus settles on the couch beside Ragnor.

Ragnor nods. “You’ll accompany Cat to the meeting — you’re a company lawyer, big on contracts, that sort of thing. Usually I’d play the inside with her, but obviously Rouse knows me already.”

“Right,” Alec says. “This marketing genius, does she work for a well-known company, or…?”

Ragnor and Magnus share a glance.

“I told you he was good,” Magnus says proudly to Ragnor, though his eyes are on Alec, and Alec can’t help smiling at the praise.

“Not that you’re biased,” Ragnor snipes back, though there’s no real heat to it. “But, no, Alec, we’ve created a PR company brand and need get Rouse to notice it pretty quickly — thank God for autosuggestion.”

“Don’t think of an elephant,” Alec says, smiling, and Ragnor nods at him.

“Exactly.” He reaches into his satchel and pulls out three T-shirts still in plastic wrapping, all printed with text that reads  _ Enchanted Media _ .

“No,” Magnus says immediately, wrinkling his nose at the top. Ragnor rolls his eyes and chucks one at him anyway.

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Ragnor says, grinning. He throws one to Alec, who catches it and slips it out of the packaging, then looks up at Magnus.

“Come on, babe. It’d look great with a pair of acid wash jeans, don’t you think?”

Magnus blinks at Alec with an expression that’s an impressive combination of horror and betrayal. Beside him, Ragnor snorts a laugh.

“Oh, I like him,” he says to Magnus, clapping him on the shoulder. “So, when are you down for a field trip?”

∞

After dragging themselves away from the warmth and comfort of their bed the next day, the pair hop on the subway to Midtown and set off towards Rouse’s offices in the late morning. The field trip for Ragnor turns into more of a food date than it probably should have, but Alec had seemed so excited about getting churros from a street cart they’d walked past that Magnus just couldn’t deny him.

Once they’d grabbed their food, they wandered leisurely for a couple of blocks, hand in hand, until they reached a plaza opposite Rouse’s office building. After taking a seat on one of the stone benches there, they’d tucked into the churros, both careful to keep an eye out for Rouse. 

Magnus could spend hours sitting there with Alec, talking and laughing and messing around taking dumb photos on Alec’s phone. It’s so easy to just  _ be  _ with him — Magnus doesn’t feel like he has to put on any pretence or show, and he wants to learn everything about Alec that he’s willing to share.

This thing between them is still so new, so fragile. Magnus treads gently, afraid of pushing too hard and too far, overwhelming Alec and scaring him away. But the way Alec looks at him sometimes, with kind smiles and fond gazes, is enough to make Magnus think it might be okay to let himself fall.

“What?” Alec asks, regarding Magnus with a smile.

Magnus starts, realising he’s been staring at Alec for the last few moments. He opens his mouth to quip something flirty, like  _ just admiring the view _ , or outrageously cheesy, like  _ sorry, Alexander, I got lost in your eyes _ , but something in the way self-consciousness nudges at the edges of Alec’s expression makes Magnus pause.

“Lost in thought,” he admits quietly. He gathers Alec’s hands in his own and looks down at them, the contrast of his rings, heavy and metallic, painted nails and light brown skin against Alec’s hands, pale and bare and slender. “I’m really happy we’re doing this.”

Alec tightens his grip on Magnus’ hands and lets out a small, pleased noise.

“Us, I mean,” Magnus adds, looking up to meet Alec’s eye, “not scoping out Rouse’s building.”

Alec laughs at that, smiling wide and carefree, eyes crinkling at the sides.  _ He’s beautiful _ , Magnus thinks, not for the first time.

“I don’t know,” Alec says, leaning closer, “that office looks pretty special.”

Magnus rolls his eyes but any retort dancing on his tongue gets lost as Alec presses his lips to Magnus’, kissing him gently. It’s short, but sweet, and Magnus is quite relieved that Alec can’t hear how quickly his heartbeat is thumping along inside his chest.

He thought he’d outgrown this new love feeling a long time ago. Alec Lightwood really is a wonder.

“Rouse just left,” Alec says, still whisper close to Magnus. 

Magnus pretends to swoon. “You really know how to sweet talk a guy,” he teases, and Alec scrunches his face up adorably at him before brushing down his pants and standing.

Wordlessly, working perfectly in tandem, the two of them follow Rouse to the restaurant she chooses to get lunch from. Alec slips inside discreetly and queues a couple of people behind her, while Magnus hangs around outside the restaurant doors for her to reappear.

He only has to wait about five minutes before his phone beeps with a text signal from Alec, letting him know Rouse is leaving. As the doors beside him open, he holds his phone to his ear and chatters into it.

“Hi, is that Enchanted Media?” Magnus asks loudly. He watches Rouse move out the corner of his eye, then sidesteps and deliberately crashes into her. “My product launch is — watch it!” 

Rouse drops her paper lunch bag in the kerfuffle, and Magnus catches her arm to help steady her while Alec subtly swaps Rouse’s bag for the one he’s carrying. 

“Sorry, my dear, are you okay?” Magnus asks, keeping Rouse turned away from Alec.

“Fine,” she says, pulling her arm back and tutting. She picks up the new paper bag, one Ragnor had printed with the Enchanted Media logo, and sets off towards her offices without a second glance.

Magnus rounds the corner and finds Alec waiting there for him, leaning against the wall in a manner that shouldn’t be so attractive. Alec raises his eyebrows at him.

“All good?”

Magnus nods, then slips his hand into Alec’s and they start walking back to the subway station.

Alec nudges him with his shoulder. “We’re done for the day?”

“Some of us are,” he says loftily, poking Alec in the side teasingly. He’s not expecting Alec to squirm away with an honest to God giggle, but he  _ does _ , and Magnus is delighted at the discovery. The way Alec looks at him, though, suggests Magnus should never, ever do it again, so, for the moment, Magnus relents. “I need to check if we got any hits on the targeted social media ads when I get home,” he continues. “After that I need to study the Spider’s Web specs.”

“Okay,” Alec says, and if Magnus isn’t projecting, he looks rather disappointed. “I should probably get back to the hotel, anyway.”

Magnus hums, glancing sideways at Alec. “Why don’t you message Isabelle and Jace? Have a Lightwood night in with no...extras,” he says delicately.

Alec snorts. “Clary Fray’s not an extra, she’s a pain in my ass,” he says flatly. Then he sighs. “I would ask them to hang out, but I can’t keep secrets from Izzy.”

Magnus leans into him. “Well, since you met Ragnor…”

“I know,” Alec says, nibbling on his lip. “I don’t want to hide you, it’s not like that, and I know they’d be happy for me. It’s just — this is all new to me and I — I don’t know.” He breaks off, sounding frustrated. 

Alec had explained on one of their very early dates that he’d never had a boyfriend before, which had surprised Magnus a little. But Magnus knows intimately the pains and realities of being closeted and getting comfortable with yourself, and on top of that Alec had had his siblings to look after, so he’d tried reassure Alec as much as possible that it didn’t make a difference to him.

“I wanna figure out what I’m doing before they start asking a load of questions, you know?” Alec says. He looks at Magnus, lips curving up into a soft smile. “I want us to figure it out together.”

Magnus smiles back at him. “We can do that,” he promises, squeezing Alec’s hand. “You can come back to my loft for a late lunch, if you want. I do have to work at some point, though,” he adds pointedly.

Alec’s smile broadens into something more suggestive, then he shakes his head. “It’s okay, I’m gonna go home.” He shrugs. “I might mention I’m seeing someone, see how that goes.”

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll stand by you,” Magnus says earnestly. He cares so much about Alec, even after such a short time they’ve been together, and he knows if they nurture what they’ve got it could bloom to something wonderful. 

“I know,” Alec says, looking right at Magnus. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Magnus hums. “You could,” he says, truthfully. “But I’m glad I’m here to hold your hand.”

The subway station is only a short distance away by now, and their conversation drifts away towards the restaurant they should go to for their next date. They end up bickering playfully, Alec claiming that calling a dish ‘fatty tuna’ is degrading, and Magnus is midway through a very valid counter argument when Alec hushes him with a goodbye kiss. 

Later, Ragnor texts to say he’s set up the meeting with Rouse for Alec and Cat to attend, so Magnus dutifully passes along the message. He can’t resist adding a double text afterwards with a tuna fish gif, and the string of emojis and texts he gets back from Alec in response have him smiling for the rest of the afternoon.

∞

A couple of days later, Alec finds himself back outside Magnus’ apartment building. He’s waiting on the sidewalk, tugging at the cuffs of his shirt, uncomfortably warm in his stuffy grey suit. 

When a group of friends come spilling out the apartment block, Alec catches the door and ducks inside, grateful to be in the shade. He sends Magnus a quick text to let him know he’s there, then tries not to work himself into too much of a panic.

Magnus had offered to introduce Alec and Catarina before the con, hoping that it might appease some of Alec’s nerves about meeting one of his other close friends. Alec had agreed — he knows  _ of  _ Catarina, of course, but he’s never seen her, either personally or professionally. All things considered, he’s over the moon with how meeting Ragnor went, but he knows that Catarina is also Magnus’ family, so he wants to make a good impression on her, too.

Being sticky from the summer heat with his hair tousled from running his hand through it one too many times maybe isn’t going to be the best first impression, he realises, but he can’t do much about it now.

The elevator doors in the apartment building’s lobby ding open, first revealing Magnus. He’s laughing loudly at something, head tilted back and his expression filled with joy. Today he’s wearing a cobalt shirt, a bright pop of colour that looks striking with his dark hair, and a pair of light coloured tailored pants. 

Alec finds himself momentarily breathless. He manages to drag his gaze away from Magnus and his everything to the woman walking behind Magnus. She’s wearing a pretty floral summer dress with a mustard yellow cardigan slung artfully over the top, and even though Alec knows it’s just for the character she’s playing in the con, she looks every bit as stylish as he imagines Magnus’ best friend would be.

“Alec,” Magnus calls, his eyes lighting on Alec waiting the foyer. Alec smiles at him, then draws in a couple of deep breaths as they cross the space towards him. He can do this.

“Cat,” says Magnus, turning towards her, “this is Alec. Alec, this is Catarina.”

Alec sends her a smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, swallowing his nerves. 

Catarina nods at him. “You, too,” she says. “I can finally put a face to the name Magnus hasn’t shut up about for the past few weeks.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh, but his fingers creep up to play with the cuff around the shell of his ear and Alec can’t help but be endeared. He didn’t realise it was possible to  _ like  _ one human as much as he likes Magnus.

“I’ll call a cab,” Catarina says, with a glance between the two of them. Magnus hugs her before she exits the lobby, stepping out on the street into the sunshine. Alec looks at Magnus, who reaches for his hand and squeezes it.

“I know you don’t need it, but good luck,” he says. He smiles fondly in the direction Catarina’s just gone. “You’ll be fine,” he adds, and somehow, Alec knows he’s not talking about the con.

“Yeah,” Alec manages, trying to smile. He presses a brief kiss to Magnus’ temple. “I should go. Have fun with your schematics.”

Magnus heaves a great sigh as Alec backs away from him. “Even you, Alexander, can’t make that sound appealing.”

Alec leaves him with a smile and a wave. He joins Catarina outside, where they don’t have to wait long for a cab. The journey to the bar where they’re meeting Ragnor and Rouse isn’t too long — a small mercy, in Alec’s opinion. He can small talk like a pro when he has to put on a front for a mark, but he doesn’t want Catarina to think he’s vapid or shallow or boring or —

Well, he just wants her to like him. 

He remembers Magnus telling him that he chooses his friends wisely, and if Magnus likes Alec, then there’s a good chance Catarina will like him, too. He tries to hold onto that as the cab pulls away, leaving the two of them with a silence to fill.

“So, you’re the boyfriend, huh?” Catarina asks. She’s leaning casually against the hard plastic interior of the cab and eyeing Alec with something like amusement.

Alec can’t fight the smile that rises to his face at the word  _ boyfriend _ . They haven’t discussed putting any labels on their relationship yet — Alec can sense Magnus’ hesitation to bring it up, so he’s trying to tread lightly himself. He wants to bring it up, though, because he needs Magnus to know he’s not capable of doing  _ anything  _ that might scare him away. 

“Something like that,” he agrees, rubbing a hand over his jaw to try and hide the smile. He doesn’t think it’s worked — Catarina is looking at him like he’s a giant sap, which he is, but he doesn’t need everyone to know about it. 

“Magnus said you met on the job,” Catarina says idly, a few minutes later.

“Yeah,” Alec says. “I was working the inside helping out a couple of friends, and Magnus was playing the broker for a mark who wanted to invest in our deal.” He chuckles lightly. “Last I heard, the mark got wind that the deal wasn’t strictly legal and decided not to invest.”

Catarina’s lips twitch but she doesn’t quite smile. They fall into silence again, until she speaks a few minutes later, seeming thoughtful.

“He really likes you, you know,” she says. “I haven’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Alec nods. Magnus hasn’t told him everything about his past yet — he wouldn’t have expected him to, even though they’ve grown incredibly close, given that they’ve not known each other for very long at all. However, he does know that Magnus’ last proper relationship had ended very badly, and he knows how lucky he is to be able to be trusted with the gift of Magnus’ love.

She looks at him shrewdly. Her tone is pleasant when she speaks, but Alec can hear the protectiveness — and the threat — underneath. “I don’t need to warn you, do I?”

“No,” Alec says immediately, because he wants Catarina to know she can trust him with Magnus’ heart. “I really like him, too.”

“Hm,” is all Catarina says, before she turns to look out the window of the cab. They spend the rest of the journey not speaking, until they pull up outside the bar.

“Time to go?” Alec asks. Catarina glances at the time on her phone, then nods.

“Show time.”

The bar is modern inside, large industrial style copper lights hanging from the ceiling and heavy cast iron bar stools lined up at the bar. Alec spots Ragnor at the table with Rouse, half heartedly engaged in conversation.

Alec nods his head in their direction and Catarina sets off, Alec behind her.

“Benedict!” Catarina exclaims as they draw closer, girlish and excited. “It’s  _ so  _ lovely to see you again. How are you? You must tell me how everything’s going — I want to know  _ everything  _ about the Microsoft deal we worked on! Let’s get some drinks in — what are you having?” Catarina pauses momentarily to take a breath and when she spots Rouse, she lets out a little giggle. “Oh, goodness, how rude of me! Let me introduce myself, darling — I’m Madeleine Bellefleur, and this is Ned Fisk, my  _ brilliant  _ lawyer. My company, Enchanted Media, does a  _ lot _ of work with Ben.”

Rouse just nods, seemingly a little taken aback by the rather impressive number of words Catarina’s just managed to cram into about thirty seconds, then she stands up to shake Catarina’s hand.

“Lovely to meet you,” Rouse says. “I’m Iris Rouse — I’m CEO of La Bastille, though you probably knew that already!” Rouse leads the polite laughter at her statement, something that has Alec pushing aside his own amusement. “Enchanted Media — I’ve heard of you before. You’re quite big, aren’t you?”

“Well, not to brag,” Catarina titters. “Shall we get some drinks?”

“I’ll go,” Ragnor volunteers, with a glance at Catarina. She smiles brightly at him and asks for a glass of sweet rosé.

“Uh, just an orange juice for me,” Alec says to Ragnor, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Mr Windsor says you’re a PR genius,” Rouse says, with a nod to Ragnor’s recently vacated seat.

Catarina smiles brightly. “He exaggerates,” she demures, “but one isn’t as in demand as I am without a hint of something like that.”

Rouse nods. “You know, I’m a believer in fate,” she comments. “I outsource my marketing as and when I need it for new product launches, and, as it happens, I have a new product that I’d like to release. Perhaps meeting you was meant to be.” She laughs gaily, and the look Catarina and Alec share goes unnoticed. 

“Serendipity works in strange ways,” Catarina muses. “What’s this product?”

“It’s called Spider’s Web,” Rouse says, leaning forward and topping up her own glass of champagne from the bucket beside her. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in throwing some ideas around?”

Before Catarina can reply, Alec jumps in. “You must understand, Ms Rouse, that Ms Bellefleur usually only takes on work for  _ paying  _ clients,” he stresses. “Perhaps we can sort an interim contract before any discussions proceed?”

Rouse looks Alec up and down, then grabs a napkin from beside the champagne ice bucket. She conjures a pen from her bag and sets about writing.

“Of course. I, Iris Rouse,” she begins, narrating as she writes, “hereby agree to sign a contract for fair payment in relation to services rendered if you, Mr Fisk, stop being so — hm,  _ boring _ .”

Alec makes a show of being very insulted, but Catarina giggles loudly.

“Oh, you are funny, Iris,” she says. Then she swats Alec’s arm. “You need to lighten up, honey. What’s the harm in having a little chat? So,” she says, “this Spider’s Web, what does it do?”

“It’s a safety device for artwork,” Rouse says. “It guarantees that whatever it’s attached to can’t be stolen.”

“Wow, amazing,” Catarina says, and somehow she manages to make it sound completely sincere. She rests her chin on her fingers. “Are you in this for the long run or a quick sale?”

Rouse shifts in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. “Does it make a difference?” 

Catarina shares a glance with Alec, smirking a little at Rouse’s expense. Alec can’t help but be in awe of how well Catarina embodies her character; she’s bubbly with a hint of sharpness underneath. It’s one thing to know how she works and quite another to see it up close.

“Of course it does,” she says after a pause.

“Well, then,” Rouse says, reaching forward to pick up her champagne, “quick sale.” 

Catarina nods. She drums her fingers on the table, each manicured nail tapping beating a steady rhythm.  “The device is failsafe?”

Rouse clears her throat. “Well —” 

“Either it is or it isn’t,” Catarina says sweetly, smiling politely. Alec fights to keep a straight face and hides his amusement by turning to survey the decor in the bar.

Rouse huffs, swirling her champagne before taking a sip. “It’s failsafe,” she confirms.

Catarina’s smile widens. “That’s brilliant,” she enthuses. “Okay, so you want a gimmick that will highlight the revolutionary nature of this product — something flashy, something that will grab the headlines.” Catarina gasps, holding her hands out in front of her, looking up with wide eyes as if a flash of inspiration has just hit her. “Don’t insure whatever the Spider’s Web protects for theft.” 

“But —” Rouse starts, but Catarina continues over her, as if she hadn’t said anything. 

“No, no, you see, you can insure it for damages, just not for theft,” she says, letting a stream of consciousness flow. “I hear the New York Museum of Art has a new Ithuriel exhibition with  _ Death at Lake Lyn _ as its star exhibit, actually, which really would be _ quite _ the PR coup if you were to use that to show how good the Spider’s Web really is.” 

Rouse looks Catarina over, eyes narrowed. She sips her champagne as she scrutinises her. 

“You’re very good,” Rouse says, finally. Catarina beams.

“Yes, she is,” Alec says curtly, “but she’s also very expensive.” 

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry,” Catarina laughs, patting Alec’s arm.

“I’m always on the lookout for talented women to join my business,” Rouse says, smiling at Catarina. “I don’t suppose I could tempt you, dear?”

“I hardly think —” Alec begins indignantly.

“I’m so sorry, but you couldn’t, I’m afraid,” Catarina simpers. “I just — well, I just I love my job! But I’m very flattered.” She sighs regretfully, then perks up. “Anyway, I think this calls for a celebration! Where’s Ben got to with those drinks?”

They spend another hour or so in the bar, talking about one thing or another. Eventually the bar starts to fill up to the point where none of them can hear each other over the music and the sound of the other people chatting and dancing, so they agree to call it a night.

Ragnor, Cat and Alec bit Rouse goodbye outside the bar, watching her go with some degree of relief.

“That was a job well done, I’d say,” Ragnor says. 

Catarina hums, then throws Alec a sideways glance. “You did good,” she says, and Alec tries to tame the pride and happiness lighting up inside his chest with an appropriate smile.

“Thanks,” he says. He wonders if he should compliment her, too, but he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s insincere and saying it out of obligation, or worse, trying to patronise her. She doesn’t seem at all invested in his opinion, though, already turning to Ragnor to confirm the details of the next stage of the con.

They’re waiting on Rouse to organise the PR launch before they can do any more, so Catarina briskly agrees to text Alec with more information when they know what the plan is. There’s not much point in any of them hanging around, as there’s nothing more they can do, so Alec bids the pair of them goodbye.

“Have a nice evening, then,” he says, and they both wave at him. As soon as his back is turned, he gets the distinct impression he’s being gossiped about, but he’s fairly sure he made a good impression on the pair of them, and pushes it to the back of his mind to subtly ask Magnus about later.

The ride back to the Idris Hotel is uneventful. Alec nods at the doorman and the girl on Reception, then heads up in the elevator to the penthouse suite. 

“Hey,” Alec calls as he kicks the door shut behind him. He drops his keycard in the dish beside the door and toes out of his shoes. “Jace? Iz?”

There’s no answer, so Alec ventures into the apartment. As he draws nearer to Izzy’s bedroom, he can hear music thumping from within, and he raps loudly on the door.

After a moment’s pause, Izzy pulls the door open. Her hair’s up in a ponytail but loose whisps frame her face and she’s dressed in a sports bra and yoga pants.

“Alec!” she says happily.

Alec grins at her. “Hey,” he says. “Are you nearly done?”

Izzy nods. “Just a cool down, then I’m gonna jump in the shower. Do we have plans?”

“No,” Alec says, still smiling, “I just wanted to see you.”

Izzy beams at him. “I’ll be twenty minutes,” she says. “You can get the drinks ready.”

True to her word, twenty minutes later a newly showered Izzy plonks herself down on the couch where Alec is lazily flicking through TV channels. He hands her a fresh smoothie, knowing she likes a healthy sugar hit after a workout, which she takes with a smile.

“I’ve missed you,” she says quietly, resting her head on his shoulder as she sips her smoothie through its straw. Alec turns the TV off, turning his full attention to his sister.

“I missed you, too,” he says truthfully. The amount of time he’s spent with Magnus recently has been like a whirlwind and he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, but it has been a long time since he’s properly seen either of his siblings. “What’ve you been doing?”

Izzy hums. “Taking it easy,” she says. “Brushed up on my Java — that’s a —”

“Computer thing, yeah,” Alec says vaguely. It’s a long time since he’s been able to outpace his computer whiz sister, but she usually takes it easy on him when she’s fixing stuff for one of their cons.

“Mhm,” she agrees. “Went shopping. Saw Clary a few times.”

“You like her, don’t you?” Alec asks, and Izzy fails at hiding her smile behind her hand. Alec can’t help grinning at the sight, but then again, Izzy’s smile hasn’t failed to touch his heart since the very first time he saw it. “Why don’t you ask her out?”

Izzy shrugs. “She’s cute,” she says, “but I don’t know if she likes girls. I don’t wanna make it weird.”

Alec nods, humming thoughtfully. Izzy tells him a little more about what she’s been up to — they seem to keep missing each other around the flat, and neither of them are quite sure what Jace has been doing, apart from moping over his break up with Kaelie.

“I told him to find someone to have some fun with, and he told me Kaelie was the most fun person he knew,” Izzy says exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. “Which is  _ obviously _ not true, because he knows me. I think it’s transference,” she adds sagely. “Really, he’s missing you.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at Alec and he knows she’s angling for information about where he’s been. He mumbles a complaint under his breath but she just looks at him expectantly until he caves.

“I’ve been seeing someone,” he says.

“The guy you mentioned before?” she asks excitedly. “Is it going well?”

Alec’s thoughts immediately go to Magnus and he nods. “It’s — yeah. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

Izzy smiles at him, fond and happy. “Do we get to meet him at some point?” she asks.

“I want you to,” he says. “We haven’t, like, put labels on anything yet, but I think we’re at the point where he would want to meet you.”

“That’s good,” Izzy says, still smiling. “I’m glad you’ve found someone, Alec, you know that, right?”

Alec wraps his arm around her and rests his head on her cheek. “Took me long enough,” he says, with a laugh that’s only slightly bitter.

“Hey,” Izzy says, tapping his arm. “This shit isn’t easy. It takes as long as it takes, so don’t rush anything on our account, yeah? I know me and Jace tease you a lot, but we just want you to be happy.”

“I know,” he says at once. “I love you.”

“I love you more,  _ hermano _ ,” Izzy says, and Alec makes a noise of disagreement before kissing her forehead.

“Right,” he says, pulling his phone from the pocket of his shorts, “why don’t you get the take out menus while I find our brother?”

Izzy grins. “Sounds good to me.”

Just a few days after that, the Spider’s Web PR launch rolls around. Alec dresses in the dullest suit he can find, bland grey pants with a white shirt and grey tie, and a grey jacket over the top, and he makes sure to pop his fake glasses on before he leaves.

He meets Catarina at the launch event’s site, and she waves him over with a smile. She looks beautiful in a turquoise blouse and white linen trousers, rings that glitter with topaz stones adorning her fingers.

“Hey,” he greets. “Ready?”

She nods. “I even put something sparkly in my hair,” she says, sounding unimpressed, turning so he can see the diamond clips, shaped like butterflies, studded around her bun. “Remind me to never let Ragnor come up with my persona again.”

Alec stifles a grin and gestures towards the building’s doors. “After you.”

The PR launch is quite busy, but Alec doesn’t recognise any faces. He assumes most of them are journalists — arts and culture, perhaps technology — but there are probably some industry professionals, too, and he recognises one or two faces from the New York Museum of Art website that he’d peeked at over Magnus’ shoulder while he was doing his research.

Predictably, Iris Rouse makes a song and dance of how  _ her  _ wonderful idea will take the art world by storm and save galleries millions in premiums. With panache, she reveals a photo of  _ Death at Lake Lyn _ and launches into a spiel about how the Spider’s Web will protect this particular painting, ensuring the longevity of the artwork so that everyone can view it — the device is, apparently, 100% failsafe. Alec and Catarina share a wry glance at that.

After a bunch of journalists have asked questions and Rouse has smiled her way through every answer, the crowd finally disperses enough for Alec and Catarina to approach Rouse.

“Ah, Madeleine!” Rouse says, clasping Catarina’s shoulders and air kissing her cheeks. “How are you today?”

“Wonderful, actually,” Catarina smiles. “I’m so pleased to see the gimmick paid off.”

Rouse smiles and looks around proudly. “Yes, it worked tremendously,” she says. “I don’t know how I come up with these things!”

Catarina’s smile falters. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean the idea of debuting Spider’s Web at the Ithuriel exhibition,” Rouse says, with a little laugh. “Sometimes I’m surprised at my own genius.”

Catarina splutters a little, looking indignant. “But — but — that was my idea!”

“Oh, well, there’s no need to get aggressive,” Rouse says, smiling. “As I recall it, ideas were bouncing around all over the place. Us girls have got to help each other out, hm?”

Alec glares at her. “You know that’s blatantly untrue,” he snaps. “What if we take this to court?”

Rouse simpers at him. “Of course, dear,” she says patronisingly. “Be sure to bring all your documents and dated emails, contracts, proof of payment for services rendered — oh!” She shrugs at him, still smiling. “Oh dear. You haven’t got any of that, have you, Mr Fisk? But don’t forget the napkin. I’m sure that will go over  _ wonderfully  _ with the judge.”

Patting Catarina on the shoulder, she leaves them to it.

Catarina relaxes once the door shuts behind Rouse, angry demeanour dropping away. She sounds delighted when she says, “I can’t  _ wait  _ to see her face when she realises we’ve got her.”

∞

The weather is pleasant as Magnus wanders towards the New York Museum of Art through the park opposite, the sun drenching him in warmth and causing the light to dapple through tree leaves into mottled shadows on the ground.

He passes a young family playing under one of the trees, their daughter’s delighted screams of laughter carrying towards Magnus. He can’t help smiling and thinks fleetingly of Alec, before burying that thought way,  _ way _ down.

People in their line of work don’t have families, not in the traditional sense. It gives them too much to lose. He has Ragnor and Cat and Raphael, his family in everything but blood, and that’s enough.

Besides, he and Alec have only been on eight and a half dates. Best not to get too sidetracked with wishful thinking.

Magnus leaves the park, the museum looming large in front of him. The grey stone columns lining the front of the building lend the architecture a classical air, decorated with splashes of colour from banners proudly declaring the new exhibits and collections at the museum. Leading up to the huge wooden doors are a set of wide stone steps, with various people perched there, examining their backpacks for maps and cameras.

As Magnus waits to cross the road to the museum, he rolls his shirt sleeves up, the warmth of the day settling over him. He spots Alec on the steps and crosses the road to join him. Alec waves and stands up, jogging down the steps to greet Magnus. He looks very summery with his sunglasses hooked over the v of his pale blue short sleeved shirt, his hair tousled.

“Hey,” Alec says, smiling. His eyes flit down to Magnus’ arms and he licks his lips, sending a thrum of heat through Magnus’ body.

“Hello, Alexander,” Magnus says, inching closer and kissing his cheek. Alec ducks his head, looking pleased, and gestures towards the museum entrance.

“Shall we?”

They take their time wandering around the museum, both for the purpose of arousing as little suspicion as possible while they complete their recce and because they’re enjoying spending time together. It’s a few days since they’ve seen each other — Magnus has been holed up in his study for what feels like several years, with only the Spider’s Web schematics and copious amounts of coffee for company. He’s not been getting anywhere with it, either, which is driving him crazy. Apparently Leigh Chen, the woman who had taken the prototype device to Iris Rouse, really knows her stuff. 

Alec’s also been busy with his own life, which, according to a series of progressively more annoyed texts Magnus has received, has consisted of taking his brother out to run short cons on unscrupulous bankers to help him stop moping over his latest break up.

Getting out of the loft for a break from the schematics is doing Magnus the world of good, though, and he feels a little giddy with delight as he leads Alec around the museum. The only reason he’s doing the leading is because he’s been to the New York Museum of Art on multiple occasions to recce it for other jobs, but there are a couple of new collections since he last looked round that he’s interested to go and see. Magnus is also letting his flair for storytelling run wild as they go round, because it makes Alec laugh brightly when he says something outrageous about dueling with the painters or sleeping with the designers.

“...I mean, I know he’d only met me once, but I don’t know why he thought it was a good idea to challenge me to a dance battle, anyway,” Magnus says, and he does mean to continue the story but Alec is pressing close to him, burying his face in the side of Magnus’ neck, and it’s more than a little distracting. Magnus can feel Alec’s body shaking as he tries to suppress his laughter, if only because everyone else around them is so discerningly admiring the paintings. 

He uses it as an excuse to wrap his arms around Alec and hold him tightly, if only for a little while.

Alec pulls away from Magnus after a moment. “You’re unbelievable,” he whispers adoringly. 

Magnus can’t help preening a little. He slides a hand to the small of Alec’s back on the pretext of guiding him as they wander to the European Rococo art collection. They spend a while making up vibrant and tragic life stories for the various background figures in the paintings, each trying to outdo the other.

As they leave the collection floor, a Raziel triptych catches Magnus’ eye, and he stops momentarily to catch the name of the new addition.  _ Les Instruments Mortels _ , declares the label by the painting. Hm.

“Magnus,” Alec says, lacing their fingers together and tugging just a little. 

They make their way up the museum’s stone steps to the top floor collection, a new exhibit of modern art by Ithuriel, a talented painter who’d died before their prime. 

“That one’s beautiful,” Alec says loudly, subtly flicking his phone camera up and snapping several pictures of  _ Death at Lake Lyn _ .

“Hm,” Magnus says, tilting his head and stroking his chin. He glances sideways at Alec. “Doesn’t compare to you, though.”

Alec lets out a surprised little laugh, the apples of his cheeks glowing pink. He rubs at the back of his neck and busies himself with taking more photos for their recce, and Magnus watches him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, and wondering how one person can manage to be so precious.

∞

It’s several days more before Magnus gathers them all at his loft to share an update about his progress on getting past Spider’s Web. Alec hasn’t seen him too much — Magnus is both focussed on and dedicated to his work, something Alec wholly admires, even if he does worry about Magnus shutting himself away — and he’s been busy with fending off Izzy’s annoying friend Clary and Clary’s annoying friend Simon from getting too close, anyway.

Alec arrives first, greeting Magnus with a soft kiss when he opens the door. 

“I missed you,” he admits, smiling at Magnus, who smiles back at him and cups his cheek.

“I missed you, too,” he says, stroking his thumb over Alec’s cheekbone. “When this con is over, I’m going to take you somewhere.”

Alec’s smile brightens. “I’ll start packing tonight,” he teases, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of Magnus’ palm. Magnus’ expression goes a little shocked at that, before his eyes crinkle with a smile. 

He steps back to let Alec into the apartment and offers to fix some drinks while Alec takes off his shoes and jacket. Alec requests a soft drink and Magnus throws him a look, saying darkly that he might wish he had alcohol when it comes to the Spider’s Web conversation they’re about to have.

That doesn’t bode well. 

As Magnus mixes their drinks — one martini, one virgin daquiri, as requested — Alec crosses the room to stand behind him. He rests his hands on Magnus’ shoulders and begins to work his thumbs over Magnus’ muscles, hoping to rub away the tension. 

Magnus leans back into him, sighing. “If you couldn’t already tell, it’s not been going well.”

“Really?” Alec asks, lips quirking up wryly, even as he presses his thumbs deeper into the tense muscles in Magnus’ back and shoulders. “You do surprise me.”

Magnus snorts. He places Alec’s drink down on the counter and takes a sip of his own martini. “You’re not allowed to stop that,” he says, sounding a little breathless at the end.

Alec kisses Magnus’ hair with a smile, then drops his head and presses featherlight kisses over Magnus’ neck and throat. “When are Catarina and Ragnor coming?” he says, the words brushing against Magnus’ skin.

“Mm,” Magnus says lightly, “who?”

Alec laughs, but before he can think of an answer, the buzzer for the loft goes. Magnus pulls himself away from Alec’s hands with a sigh and a look of deep longing, which makes Alec feel rather delighted, if he’s honest with himself.

While Magnus greets his friends, Alec picks up both drinks and moves over to one of the couches, placing the elegant glasses down on the coffee table in front of the couch. This brings him in view of Ragnor and Catarina, and he waves at them as they walk into the living room.

Ragnor’s wearing a tweed jacket, Catarina a comfy knitted cardigan and Magnus a black Henley. Side by side as they enter the room, they seem a little mismatched, but there’s an air of comfort and familiarity between the three of them, and only one word comes to Alec’s mind: family.

Magnus crosses back to his cocktail table and sets about making drinks for Ragnor and Catarina while they settle themselves on the couches. Catarina kicks her legs up and stretches them out, grabbing a cushion and hugging it with a contented sigh.

The fondness in Ragnor’s gaze as he watches her makes Alec think of himself and Izzy. With a glance at Magnus, and a new appreciation for the private side of his life that he’s letting Alec see, Alec resolves to tell Izzy and Jace about Magnus, and ask if they’d like to meet him.

He can’t say why it hits him so strongly in that moment, but he wants to shout from the rooftops about how lucky he is to be able to call Magnus Bane his.

“You said you had an update, Magnus?” Catarina asks. 

“Hm.” Magnus shrugs noncommittally and adds the finishing touches to their drinks. He twirls gracefully and crosses the lounge to hand his friends their cocktails, before taking a step back to stand in full view of the three of them. It’s a moment before he says anything, and Alec feels his stomach twist with sudden nerves.

“We’re on the edge of our seats, here,” Ragnor says drily, sipping at his dry vermouth in a stately fashion.

“Alright, alright, I’m getting to it,” Magnus says waspishly. Then he sighs. “Okay, so pretty much any alarm ever made, you can work with, because it’s got an entry which you can bypass if you have access to it.” 

Magnus’ hands dance in the air as he talks to accentuate his points, and Alec finds himself getting a little lost in the whole hot professor vibe Magnus has going on as he explains the situation to them, but he tries to keep his mind on track.

He’s focussed. He’s a professional.

Magnus looks  _ so good  _ in that Henley.

“Thing is, Spider’s Web isn’t a normal alarm,” Magnus continues. “It’s more like a mesh or net. Tiny chips get embedded into it and it’s fixed permanently to the painting.”

“Permanently?” Catarina asks sharply.

Magnus nods. “That’s why it’s so good — it’s actually sewn into the back of the canvas. The chips detect movement, so as soon as you try to take it anywhere — well, you don’t. Any movement sends a signal to the museum security and the local cops, and if that isn’t enough, it triggers the door locks on site, so even you get in, you don’t get out.”

“Fuck,” Catarina says, slumping back on the couch.

“Yeah,” Magnus says, rubbing at his brow. He shakes his head. “You can’t remove the Web because it’s stitched to the painting, and you can’t bypass it because you can’t get to it without moving the painting, which’ll set off the alarms.”

Ragnor tips his head back against the couch with a groan. 

“So, what do we do?” Alec asks. 

Magnus shrugs. Alec’s never seen him look so despondent and it’s heartbreaking. “I’ve tried everything I can think of. You can’t even block the signal externally. I —” He blows out his breath. “I can’t steal this painting.”

With a shake of his head, Magnus turns away and heads out of the living room. Alec, Catarina and Ragnor share a glance, before Alec stands up.

“Alec —” Catarina begins, looking warily in the direction Magnus left.

“I’m not gonna bother him,” he says, “I just wanna make sure he’s okay.”

Catarina pulls an expression that Alec takes to mean,  _ it’s your funeral.  _ Alec leaves the room, not entirely reassured, but he wants to find Magnus.

The study is empty and when Alec ducks his head into the bedroom, Magnus isn’t there, so he heads out to the balcony as a last resort. Magnus is standing there, surveying the city, rubbing his fingers together.

“Hey,” Alec says, coming to a stop beside him.

Magnus doesn’t say anything, but his eyes flit sideways towards Alec before returning to the city.

“It’s not your fault,” Alec tries. Magnus huffs a laugh, but there’s no amusement in it.

“Whose fault is it, then?” he asks drily.

Alec turns sideways so he’s leaning on the balcony with one arm, facing Magnus. “No one’s,” he says. “You did your best. It doesn’t mean you failed, and it doesn’t mean anyone thinks any less of you.”

Magnus glances down, thumb tracing a pattern over the stone balustrade of the balcony.

“It was my job to steal the painting,” Magnus says quietly, “and I can’t.”

Alec gathers Magnus’ hand in his own. “Yeah, but that’s okay. Sometimes the job’s too big.”

Magnus sighs heavily. “You know what the worst thing is?” he asks. “Rouse thinks she can just get away with it, and I  _ helped _ her.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” Alec says, “what Iris Rouse thinks is really fucking far down on my list of priorities.” 

Magnus cracks a smile at that, which Alec counts as a victory, even if Magnus does try to hide it by turning his head away. 

“What  _ you  _ think is important to me,” Alec continues. His fingers cup Magnus’ jaw, gently turning his head to face him. “And if you think you messed up, or this is all your fault, then I’m gonna tell you that you didn’t and it’s not. We’re a crew. We take the fall together and —”

“Alec,” Magnus says urgently.

Alec stops talking. Magnus is staring at a point over Alec’s shoulder, his eyes narrowed, and Alec can practically  _ see  _ the wheels turning in Magnus’ head.

“What?” he asks gently.

Magnus looks at him, face alight with excitement. “I think you should move what Rouse thinks to the top of your list,” he says, spinning on his heel and heading back indoors.

Alec stands there for a moment, staring blankly after him. “Are you always this cryptic?” he calls.

Magnus turns in the doorway and flashes Alec a blinding grin, and Alec is helpless against following him inside.

∞

Iris Rouse wakes to the cacophonous blare of her cell phone shattering the morning peace. Groggily, she pushes herself up, reaching for the phone where she’d left it charging the night before.

“What?” she snaps, hand over her eyes.

“Ms Rouse,” someone says, “it’s Nicholas, from the museum. The painting’s not here.”

Her eyes fly open. “What do you mean, ‘it’s not here’?”

“The painting,” Nicholas says again. “It’s gone.”

Within five minutes, the quickest she’s ever got out the house in her life, Iris is running to her convertible where it’s parked outside her penthouse apartment. As she gets into the car she whacks her head on the roof accidentally and curses several times, then she throws her purse onto the seat beside her and slams the driver door shut.

She jams her foot down and races to the museum as quickly as she can, stopping only to smear a coat of lipstick over her lips before she rushes inside to the top floor.

The doors to the exhibit are already open when she gets there. 

“Where is it?” she demands. Nicholas turns to her, looking as confused as she feels.

“We were hoping you’d tell us,” Nicholas says. “It looks like it’s been stolen.”

Iris runs a hand through her hair raggedly, making it even more flyaway than it already is. “Right,” she says, gnawing her teeth over her bottom lip. “Well, the museum has its own insurance, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, for everything,” Nicholas says, and a flood of relief washes over Iris. “Except  _ Death at Lake Lyn _ . On your instructions.”

Iris’ head jerks in his direction. She feels like screaming, so she does. 

“No,” she growls, stalking towards the wall where the painting has been hanging, perfectly safely and securely, for the past three weeks. “It’s not possible! You can’t steal paintings with Spider’s Web attached to them, you can’t!”

Nicholas eyes her. “Well, clearly you can.”

Iris lets out a frustrated yell. “Have you called the police?”

Nicholas tips his head. “Our internal security team are sweeping the rest of the collections to ensure nothing else has been stolen, and then we’ll alert the police.”

“If I may,” a new voice says, one that’s British, vaguely familiar, and accompanied by four sets of footsteps, “you probably don’t want to do that.”

∞

Their footsteps echo in the otherwise quiet room, along with the metallic tap of Ragnor’s heavy cane on the floor. Rouse spins on her heel to look at them, her face an absolute picture of indignation and fury. Her auburn hair flies loose from its bun and her shirt is untucked at one side. 

“What?” she snaps.

The man from the museum looks between them, agape. “How did you get in?” he asks.

“That’s not important,” Ragnor tells him cheerfully. “We won’t be staying long. Could you give us some privacy, please?”

The man opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “But — the police —”

“Just do it,” Rouse says curtly to the man, staring at Ragnor. “Give us ten minutes and then you can call the goddamn FIB if you want to!”

Magnus smiles at the museum man as he leaves the room in confusion. Silence descends, Rouse glaring daggers at them. 

“Mr Windsor,” she says icily. “If that’s even your real name, tell me what the  _ hell  _ is going on!”

Ragnor inclines his head towards Catarina. “Certainly,” he says pleasantly.

Catarina smiles at Rouse. It’s clear to Magnus that she’s enjoying herself, her dark eyes alight with amusement and her shoulders swaying slightly. “You’re a thief, Rouse,” she says. “You use your company as a front to steal ideas from other people. We just thought we’d return the favour.”

“What do you mean?” Rouse says, shaking her head.

“The painting,” Magnus says. “You thought it couldn’t be stolen.”

Rouse turns to him for the first time, her gaze sweeping over him. “It can’t,” she says, though her voice falters, and she glances back at the wall where the painting used to hang. 

“It’s not here, though, is it?” Magnus asks, smirking. 

Rouse stares at him, jaw clenched. Her eyes narrow. “You had something to do with this?” Her eyes flit between them. “What do you want?”

“Glad you asked,” Alec says, pulling a contract out from the briefcase he’s carrying. He smooths them out and hands them to Rouse. “A contract, since you love them so much,” he says. “You will sign full ownership of Spider’s Web over to Leigh Chen — I don’t know if you remember her, but she’s the woman who  _ actually  _ invented it.”

Rouse looks over the paper with a scoff. “Why should I sign this?”

Catarina shrugs. “You don’t have to,” she says, glancing around the room. Her gaze stops on the bare wall at the end. “You could always pay the insurance premiums. Half a million, isn’t it?”

Rouse glares at her, then looks back to Alec. She snatches the contract from his hands and flicks to the back page. He produces a pen from his jacket pocket for her, smiling, and Magnus doesn’t bother to hide his amusement at the fury in Rouse’s gaze. 

She signs the contract with a huff, then glances back at the wall. “Now, where’s my painting?”

“Ah, one more thing,” Alec says. He puts the contract back in the briefcase and pulls out a tablet computer instead. He taps a couple of times on the screen, then holds it up to show Rouse. “We’ve got your bank details here for two transfers — $250,000 for Ms Chen, and $100,000 another for us.” He smiles at Rouse. “Call it a...finder’s fee.”

Alec’s clearly in his element, playing this cat and mouse game with Rouse, and Magnus is so proud of him — proud and unfairly turned on.

Rouse glares at him. “How did you get my bank details?” she spits out.

Alec’s grin broadens. “I’m very resourceful.”

Rouse purses her lips, looks at Ragnor, then back to Alec. She takes a step back and runs a hand through her hair, pulling more auburn strands loose. 

“$350,000 or half a million,” Ragnor muses. “Doesn’t seem like a hard decision to me.”

Rouse curls her lip at him, tugs once more at her hair, and paces away from Alec, then back to him. 

“Fine,” she mutters, under her breath, “fine, fine. Do it.” She looks at Ragnor. “Then I’ll get my painting?”

Ragnor nods once. Hesitantly, fingers curling in the air over the tablet as if she’s psyching herself up for it, Rouse finally stabs at the tablet and types in her bank authorisation code. 

“Now,” she says, with measured anger, “where is it?”

Ragnor turns to Magnus. “Magnus,” he says mildly, “would you like to do the honours?” 

Ragnor hands Magnus his cane and Magnus swings it up over his shoulder, swaggering towards the wall where the painting used to be displayed. Rouse watches him, disbelieving, as Magnus approaches the wall. 

With one glance backwards and a wink at Alec, Magnus swings the metal cane forward so it crashes into the wall. He hits it repeatedly until the plaster comes away, falling to the floor in large, jagged chunks. Behind the wall Magnus is destroying, another is revealed — the actual wall, where the painting is still hanging, and has been hanging the whole time.

When Magnus has made a big enough hole in the wall that most of the painting shows through, he stands back to admire his work, tossing a loose piece of plaster carelessly over his shoulder. 

Rouse’s mouth is hanging open. 

“You…”

Magnus smiles at her.

He’d all but given up when Alec found him on the balcony two days before, unable to see a way to steal the painting without landing himself a spot in jail — or, at the very least, staring down a judge and jury in the courtroom. 

Alec had been so adorable, telling him that it wasn’t his fault and they’d they take the fall together. And then he’d said the magic words, kicking Magnus’ brain into gear and getting him excited about the con for the first time since his alcohol-drenched brain had convinced him he’d cracked it after eight hours straight of staring at the Spider’s Web specs. 

Alec was right, but he had it all backwards. What Iris Rouse  _ thought  _ had happened was actually the only thing that mattered — if she believed they’d stolen the painting, whether or not they really had, they might have a shot at pulling this off.

After that, it had only taken Magnus a day or so to pull together the resources they’d need to sneak into the gallery floor and build a simple stud wall across the end of the hall, about a meter out from the existing one. Using the photos he and Alec had snapped on their recce, the four of them created an exact replica of the wall, name plaque and all — only this one was missing the Ithuriel painting. 

Rouse closes her mouth with an audible snap. She whirls round, her finger waving in the air as she points wildly at the four of them. “You —!” 

“Turns out you were right,” Magnus says to Rouse now, with an easy shrug. “You can’t steal paintings with Spider’s Web attached to them. Leigh Chen is going to make a fortune.” He drops his placid demeanour, turning hard eyes on Rouse. “As she should. It’s rightfully hers.”

Catarina hums. “I think we’re done here, don’t you?” she says, sharing a glance with Ragnor and Magnus. “ _ Lovely _ seeing you, Iris.” 

Catarina spins on the heel of her battered Converse — Magnus is always telling her to get new shoes, but she insists on comfort over style — and leads them out of the room.

“I can still call the police!” Rouse calls desperately.

Magnus throws her a glance over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Okay. What are you gonna tell them?”

Rouse looks behind her to the massive hole in the plasterboard wall, where the painting is peeping through. “That you stole my — that you — you st…” she trails off.

Catarina laughs. “Good luck with that,” she says cheerfully. “I’m sure that will go over  _ wonderfully _ with the judge.”

The sunshine on their faces as they jog down the steps of the museum feels like success. Magnus can’t help laughing, stepping closer to Alec and lacing their fingers together.

“That was fun,” he muses. Ragnor and Catarina are wearing matching grins and Alec’s hand squeezes his.

“Thank God, I can get out of this suit now,” Alec says, and then his eyes go wide and he glances at Ragnor and Catarina with a sheepish smile. “I don’t mean, like —”

But Catarina just laughs and pats him on the arm. “Take him home, Magnus,” she says.

Once Alec’s given the briefcase to Catarina, the four of them say goodbye. Alec and Magnus take their time getting back to the loft. The weather’s lovely and Magnus has an even lovelier man walking beside him holding his hand, and he can’t stop smiling.

And, actually, he finds he doesn’t want to.

“I knew you’d do it,” Alec says, leaning into Magnus and kissing his cheek. “You’re  _ Magnus Bane _ .”

Magnus’ knees go a little weak at the adoration in Alec’s tone, and he momentarily lets himself be overwhelmed by everything he feels for Alec.

“Well,” Magnus begins teasingly, “I had a little help.” 

Alec rolls his eyes, but he’s still grinning. “You should have more faith in yourself,” he chides gently.

“Oh, no, I know I’m the best,” Magnus says dismissively, waving his free hand. “But I wanted to thank you.” He glances to the side, looking at Alec, who’s watching him as intently as someone walking down a busy New York street can. “You came to find me, the other day, just to make sure I was okay. And when I wasn’t, you said — well, some of the sweetest, most reassuring things anyone’s said to me in a long time.”

Alec shakes his head. “I just wanted to make you feel better,” he says, a little crease between his brows.

“And that’s what makes you wonderful,” Magnus says immediately, not allowing Alec the time to brush off the action as if it was insignificant. “It means a lot to me. Thank you.”

Alec’s smile reappears. The summer weather looks good on him, dusting him with sunlight and lighting his hair with a halo.  “Well, then, you’re welcome.”

Magnus beams back at him and squeezes his hand.

They continue walking to the subway station that will take them back to Magnus’ apartment, both revelling in each other’s company. It helps that they’re both on a high from finishing the con — Magnus has done his fair share of grifting, but given that his main business is being a master thief, he always gets a rush from completing a job with Ragnor and Catarina.

And now Alec’s a part of his little rag-tag family, too. He knows Alec has had contact with Raphael before, because Alec had mentioned it — there aren’t many people who specialise in art the way Raphael does, so Magnus isn’t surprised. It’s quite a pleasant feeling, knowing the different parts of his life slot together easily, and he doesn’t have to keep secrets or build walls.

He can be himself around all of them, and that — well, that feels like something special.

“What are you thinking?” Alec asks, momentarily breaking his hold on Magnus’ hand to let two young girls run between the pair of them. Neither of them can hold back a smile at the kids’ exuberance, waving away their mother’s apologies. 

“How lucky I am to have you,” Magnus says honestly, eyes twinkling as he turns his smile to Alec. Alec grins and takes Magnus’ hand again. “You?”

Alec licks his lips. “I was thinking that I wanted to ask you something,” he says. 

Magnus hums, interested. “I’m intrigued.”

Alec smiles. “Okay, well, I was thinking about you, too, actually. About us.” He shrugs, still smiling. “And about what you said before — how I’d met Ragnor, and Catarina. I know they mean a lot to you and that it’s important to you that they think I’m — well, an okay kind of guy, I guess.” He huffs a self-deprecating little laugh, and Magnus tugs him closer.

“You’re more than an okay kind of guy,” he teases, pressing a kiss to Alec’s cheek.

Obviously pleased, Alec’s smile widens, then he continues. “So, I was thinking, maybe you’d like to meet my brother and sister at some point?”

Magnus’ eyes widen and he swears his heart skips a beat. All his focus zeroes in on Alec — the wayward curl of dark hair over his forehead, his hazel eyes, hopeful and shining in the sunlight, the way his lips press together uncertainly. 

It’s not that he wasn’t expecting this eventually, because they’ve talked about it before, and he knows that Alec thinks the world of his siblings. Magnus just hadn’t thought that they’d got to this point in their relationship yet.

He feels lighter than he has in ages, something delighted fizzing through his body at what Alec’s request represents: Magnus becoming not just someone Alec spends a lot of time with, or might happen to be dating, but someone allowed into the private sphere of his family, allowed to be an intimate part of everything he knows. The trust he’s placing in Magnus to ask this of him, and the implicit recognition of what Magnus must mean to Alec, has Magnus’ throat growing a little thick with emotion.

He takes a second to just breathe, savouring the moment, committing it to memory so that he can keep it safe inside him for the rest of his life.

Alec’s looking at him now, a crease growing between his heavy brows. He starts talking again, and Magnus realises belatedly that he’s mistaken Magnus’ stunned, awed silence as rejection. 

“‘Cause, you know, I mentioned to them that I was seeing someone, and they were both really happy for me. It doesn’t have to be a big deal or anything — you can just come and chill at ours if you want, or — well, whatever you want, really. And you don’t have to, if you don’t want to, if you think it’s too soon, or —”

“Alexander,” Magnus says, bringing his finger up to Alec’s lips and hushing his babbling, “I’d love to.”

Alec bites away whatever he was going to say next and grins, an elated smile that lights up his face. “Okay, great,” he says. “That’s — yeah.”

Magnus can’t help laughing at the sight before him, something adoring, something  _ happy _ . He gets to have this and he can’t quite believe it.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll go with that,” Magnus says, lacing his fingers through Alec’s again. “I want you to be comfortable with it, Alec,” he adds. “I know that this is the first time you’ve done the whole ‘bringing someone home to the family’ thing, so whatever makes it easy for you is what we’ll do.”

Alec pulls them to a halt, moving them to the side of the street to avoid the protesting squawks of New Yorkers around them. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asks softly, gazing at Magnus.

“I ask myself the same question every minute I’m with you,” Magnus replies, equally soft, and Alec just sucks in a breath before he’s kissing Magnus, holding his face reverently between his hands.

Magnus rests his palms on Alec’s waist, relishing the warmth and solidness of Alec’s body under his hands. Alec pulls away for just a moment, lips brushing Magnus’ in the barest hint of a kiss. Magnus chases after him, and when he slowly blinks his eyes open, Alec is smiling at him, tender and sweet and loving. 

“Kiss me,” Magnus says. Alec’s eyes darken before his mouth is on Magnus’ again, making Magnus’ heart beat rapidly in his chest, desire and affection and happiness coursing through his veins. 

Not content to let Alec go, Magnus draws him closer, relishing the feel of Alec’s body against his.

“We probably shouldn’t —  _ mm _ — do this on the street,” Alec mumbles, mouthing along Magnus’ jaw.

Magnus hums, displeased. “What do you suggest instead?” he asks, ghosting his fingers up Alec’s sides. Alec shivers involuntarily and his gaze locks onto Magnus’ lips.

“Can we go to your loft?” he asks, swallowing hard.

Magnus smiles slowly at him. “Alexander, it would be my pleasure.”

∞

It’s the height of summer, and Magnus’ sheets lay creased and crumpled at the foot of the bed. Golden beams of late afternoon sun hit their bare skin. Magnus watches the dust floating in the air, a contented smile on his face as Alec runs his hands through Magnus' hair.

There’s no sound but their gentle breathing and the life of the city bustling around them, the two of them held in a world of their own.

Alec leans over and kisses Magnus’ temple, his lips lingering against Magnus’ sun-warmed skin. Magnus’ hand finds Alec’s and holds it tightly, both a promise and a reminder that he’s not going anywhere.

Alec smiles, feeling like he’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> im on tumblr @[lightwoodlesbians](http://lightwoodlesbians.tumblr.com) if u wanna chat!!


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